


Messy as Hell

by Jessa



Series: One-shots and Drabbles [6]
Category: Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, F/M, NSFW, Reylo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 00:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16586834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessa/pseuds/Jessa
Summary: In response to the “Touch” challenge from @reylo-week-2018.





	Messy as Hell

It  _is_  a touching gesture. She has to give him credit for that.

Rey picks the flowers up off the stoop with one hand and fumbles in the other for the key to the door. Momentarily buoyed by his gift - which is unexpected - her mood takes a fresh dive as she walks into their first floor apartment.

 _Still messy as hell,_  she thinks.

Rey looks for a clear space to put the bouquet on the small round coffee table. There’s none. Two half-filled plastic wine glasses, unpaid bills and used tissues are scattered across its surface.

 _I should be cleaning up,_  she thinks.

But Rey just can’t bring herself to start. Dumping her keys on top of the bookshelf she flops down on the couch and slumps back against the big black cushions.

 _Be present,_  Rey urges herself.  _Don’t slide. Stay in the moment._

Rey sighs and tries the mindfulness thing. She’d downloaded  _Headspace_  several weeks ago and found this tip the most useful, if only because it required minimal effort. All she had to do, it said, was touch something.

Rey sighs again. She places her hands face down on either side of where she sits. Beneath them she can feel the slightly scaly texture of the synthetic black material covering their Friheten corner sofa-bed.

Rey remembers how he’d made love to her on this couch when they’d first bought it six months ago. The assembly had taken them all day and then he’d asked her to kneel on it. She’d leaned over the extra long arm rest as he’d fucked her from behind while a vinyl of  _‘Teenage Snuff Film’_  played in the background. That had been a good day.

 _There are still some,_  Rey thinks.

She lifts her hands off the couch. This isn’t working at all.

Rey sits up and brings her knees to her chest, hugging them close to her and pressing her cheek against them as she feels the tears start to prickle at the corners of her eyes again.

 _Stop it,_  she scolds herself.  _Just stop it._

But she can’t fight them off and now they tumble down her cheeks.

Rey misses him. Everything about him, including the way they fight about almost everything. Whose turn it is to cook. Whose turn it is to clean. Whose bank account the Google Play purchases should be coming out of.

Rey begins to let her cries escape as inglorious sobs. She’s always been a bad crier. She’d sometimes admitted this to him when they fought and at the end of it she’d grown upset. He’d want to keep talking but she just couldn’t. The lump in her throat always grew too big and the words just wouldn’t come out.

Head still at her knees, arms still wrapped tight around her legs, Rey feels Chewie land with a fwump on the knitted blanket beside her. The cat gives her a soft meow and then rubs his warm head against her arm.

Rey smiles. She unclamps her body so her feet hit the floor and picks Chewie up, bringing his furry body to her face and touching the top of his head to the side of her cheek.

“You poor thing,” she coos. “Stuck in here all day.”

Rey carries the cat to the door and sets him down on the floorboards. Knowing what’s coming, Chewie puts his front paws up against the door and stretches out his claws, gently scratching, but not enough to leave a mark.

“You can go outside,” Rey allows gently, unable to keep herself from smiling at him.

Rey opens the door and as Chewie shoots through it she is shocked to see Ben standing on the stoop.

“You’ve been crying,” he says softly.

Rey feels a fresh wave of tears threaten and the lump in her throat rise again, preventing her from saying anything to Ben in response.

Knowing this, he sighs.

“Please can I come in, Rey?”

She nods, moving aside so that Ben can enter and she follows him through the doorway before closing the door. Chewie is a good cat. He won’t go far.

They stand awkwardly opposite each other. The echoes of the cross words that had passed between them earlier in the day still hang in the air. Ben had asked her to join him while he installed a shelf. Rey had refused. She didn’t want indoor plants.

“Do you like the flowers?” Ben asks.

“Yes,” Rey replies. “You didn’t have to get them. It was my fault. I should have just agreed to help you.”

Ben sighs. “Rey, you always say that.”

Rey says nothing. Sometimes Ben accuses her of not listening to him. Of cutting him off to control his emotional outbursts. She doesn’t want this to be one of those times. Looking at him now she remembers all the things she loves about him. She doesn’t want another fight.

“I’m sorry,” Ben continues. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. If you don’t want the plants, I’ll take them back.”

“You would really do that. For me?”

Ben takes two steps to close the distance between them and then gently puts his hands around her waist, drawing Rey in to him and placing his mouth near her neck.

“Of course I would,” he whispers as she feels his soft lips brush against her ear.

Rey feels her heart flutter.  _This_  is why they always make up. 

Ben’s touch is addictive. When he touches her, she feels like he is touching the very core of her. And even when he’s away from her, especially after they’ve been intimate, she can feel him still there on all the places of her skin he’s been the night before.

As now Rey feels his touch again - his warm palms making their way slowly across her back and his hips pressing meaningfully against her -  the dark of their most recent fight begins to lighten. 

Rey sighs as she tilts her head and lets Ben lick at the skin behind her ear. His hands sneak their way below the fabric of her worn grey t-shirt, to the back of her bra, and he unclasps it. She lets him remove her clothes and then pull her to him. As he sits down on the edge of the couch she straddles him.

Rey feels Ben’s hands start to follow the contours of her hips and she wriggles closer to him. As his hands caress the curves of her arse the bulge of his cock grows beneath his black jeans. In her haste to unbutton his shirt her fingers fumble and gently Ben pushes her from him, helping her with them. 

Rey watches him shrug off his shirt to reveal the scarred, pale contours of the body she knows so well. She longs to touch it. To press her skin against it. Her bare nipples stiffen and her sex grows wet as she slips off her leggings and knickers before straddling him again.

“Rey,” she hears him breathe, as her hands unfasten the top of his jeans and pull his hard cock from beneath them. 

Dying to feel him inside her, Rey lifts her hips and slides down on his length as they both gasp softly together. She closes her eyes and rocks, feeling Ben move beneath her. Feeling the touch of his bare hands across the skin of her back. Feeling his hot mouth, sometimes at her neck, sometimes at her nipples.

As Rey feels herself coming, her hands grip the back of his neck and she pulls him even closer to her. He bites at her softly and she gasps aloud, wondering again how many more of their fights will end like this.


End file.
